Shapes And Colors
by DamonBiteMe
Summary: In his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry has to deal with Sirius's death and his own guilt and anger. He has to deal with his emotions and his dark memories. The most unexpected person will help him through it all... A must Read Guardian Fanfic. Comment
1. Chapter 1 The Beginning

Harry Potter was sitting on the bed in his small room at number four Privet Drive. The window was wide open, occasionally letting warm wind enter the room. Harry's school books were scattered all around the bedroom floor. His large suitcase was sitting by his bed, not yet emptied. He could hear his Uncle Vernon arguing with his Aunt Petunia downstairs. The topic of discussion, as usual, centered around the disgusting creature that lived in the second bedroom upstairs. Harry Potter.

It was summer break, but unlike most kids, to Harry, this wasn't a welcoming thought. Britain was trying to survive the worst heat wave in a century and Uncle Vernon made sure to make the best of the situation. In other words, Harry's room got absolutely no air conditioning. He had come back to Privet Drive only two days ago, ending his fifth year at Hogwarts, and the Dursleys were doing their best to make him miserable.

But at the moment, the weather was the least troubling thing on Harry's mind. He had more important affairs to deal with. Harry was trying to calm quite a few emotions that were stirring up in the pit of his stomach. Anger, guilt, and fear were the ones that stood out most.

After the torturous events that happened at the Ministry of Magic only a few weeks ago, Harry was expected to come back to Privet Drive and deal with his monstrous muggle relatives? Just the thought of it made his head pound with anger. He didn't deserve another horrifying summer vacation after everything he'd gone through… or maybe he did.

The anger was silenced a bit as the guilt flared to life. He _did_ deserve this punishment. In fact he deserved a far worse punishment. It was his fault that Sirius had died. It was all because of him, and no one could say anything to make him feel better. Dumbledore's words couldn't take away his pain or suffering. And neither Ron's nor Hermione's outlook on the subject mattered. Harry knew the truth. He had been stupid and selfish to drag everyone out to the Ministry and put their lives in danger. It was what Voldemort had wanted from the beginning.

And that's when the thought of Voldemort made Harry shiver, his hand dashing up to the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. Two weeks ago, Harry had found out that the end to the story of the Boy-Who-lived would either end bloody, or very bloody. The day would come when Harry and Voldemort would have to face one another once again. Harry remembered the very words spoken by Sybill Trelawney seventeen years ago:

_"Neither Could Live While the other Survived"_

But Harry's thoughts were disrupted by a loud rapping at his door, making him jump to his feet. He heard the sound of many locks being jerked open and finally, the door flying forward, bouncing off the wall.

Uncle Vernon stood in the entrance to Harry's bedroom, looking disheveled. Vernon Dursley was bulky to the extent where Harry couldn't see any part of the hall beyond his Uncle's body. His face was always red from stress and he had a walrus mustache. He was looking at Harry murderously.

"Petunia and I have come to the conclusion that this summer will not be like the last. You are not to go wondering around the streets looking for trouble. I won't let you curse Dudley again." Uncle Vernon had a wicked glint in his eye and a smile spread across his face that was rather terrifying. He walked into the room and started pacing. Harry stood rooted to the spot.

"You will wake up, do your chores, and go to sleep." He told Harry, "You will only leave this room when we let you, and there will be no owls in my home." Just when Harry thought that he would pause to take a breath, he rattled on. "You will have absolutely no contact with any of your weirdo friends and if I find out that you have disobeyed any of my rules, you will be kicked out of the house." He warned Harry, then he stopped pacing and put himself right in front of Harry. "Do I make myself clear, Potter?"

Harry took a step back from his Uncle. "Yes, sir" He said, his voice was hoarse from the lack of use. Harry had spent the past forty-eight hours locked in his room. His stomach was grumbling and his whole body hurt.

Uncle Vernon gave him a dirty look and backed away from Harry. He wasn't willing to turn his back on the teenager, afraid that he would take his wand out. It was only when he was at the entrance to the door, when he turned and shut it violently. Harry heard his uncle put all the locks back, and so he went to sit back down on his bed.

His hand watch said that it was 11:47 in the afternoon. Harry would have to wait a few more hours to get his food. Once a day, Aunt Petunia would slip a plate of food in through the newly installed doggy-door. It wasn't the feast he would have liked, but it was something.

Harry didn't have anything to help make time go faster. Hedwig was out getting a snack and she was his only company. He wished so badly now that he could write to Sirius and tell him everything. Sirius was, after all, the only one who could comfort Harry in a time like this. He was the only parent figure that Harry had ever known. But now he was gone. Just like Harry's parents were gone. Harry couldn't help but realize that if not for him, his parents, Sirius, Cedric, and so many other innocent people would still be alive.

He remained in thoughtful misery until sleep finally caught up with him. But it wasn't a peaceful sleep. He hadn't rested peacefully in a long time. These days, all of his naps contained nightmares and restlessness. It was one thing to have to watch Sirius die once. But it was torture having to relive it every night. And it wasn't like Harry had anything to get his mind off of his misery, because he was trapped inside his room all day.

Harry woke to the sound of ruffled wings. He sat bolt upright, looking around. But it was only his snowy-white owl, Hedwig.


	2. Chapter 2 Hunger

Chapter 2:

"Hedwig!" Harry grunted getting up. He had promised his Uncle Vernon that Hedwig would stay at Ron's house for the rest of the summer. If his Uncle knew she was here…

Harry looked around frantically for a piece of parchment. When he found a small piece under the clothes in his suitcase, he started scribbling:

_Ron,_

_The Dursleys are giving me a hard time about Hedwig. Please watch her until I get out of here._

_-Harry _

His Handwriting was messy and the ink was everywhere, but he knew Ron would understand. They had been best friends since Harry's first day at Hogwarts and Harry knew that Ron wouldn't mind taking care of Hedwig for a while.

Harry attached the note to Hedwig's foot and directed her back out the window.

"Go to The Burrow" Harry commanded her. "You'll be safe there"

Hedwig hooted in protest and gave Harry a look that clearly said "What about you?"

He shrugged, understanding his owl. "I'll be fine!" Harry said sincerely. So Hedwig flew out the window, taking one backwards glance before disappearing from view.

Harry looked out the window for a long time. Now he was really alone. It was just him and the Dursleys. When were they going to get him food? His stomach was grumbling weakly and his head was spinning.

Harry walked feebly to the long mirror that was leaning against the wall across from his bed. His Hair was unkempt and all over the place from frustration. He had deep black circles under his eyes from lack of proper sleep.

The teenage boy lifted his arm up to rub his eyes, but his elbow touched his chest in the process and he winced. Harry slowly and carefully lifted his shirt up, to reveal a large red gash, spread from his right shoulder, down to his left rib.

This mark was given to him two days ago. His Aunt and Uncle had come to pick him up from the train station and had driven him back to Privet Drive. But Uncle Vernon had not appreciated being confronted by Mad-Eye Moody and the rest of the lot. So when they got home, Uncle Vernon sent Harry up to his room and followed, un-buckling his belt in the process.

Harry tried not to remember the rest. He had been terrified of the memory, but the images kept coming back to him. In nightmares, mostly. And he hated himself for being so weak. He hated himself for cowering in the corner of his room while Uncle Vernon beat him. After all, Harry was the one with the magic wand. But Harry knew that he deserved it. So that's what he thought about when Uncle Vernon had his way with him. He thought about all the pain he had inflicted on so many families. And so he let the pain in, punishing himself.

But the dried blood that formed a trail down his body was not the worst bit of it. Harry's rib cage was visible. It bore into his skin. He was scary thin. After Sirius died, he didn't eat much at school. But he should have known better than to come home with the Dursleys without bringing food with him. And then, the thought of food came back to him and he looked over at the floor by the dog cage.

Still no food? How long was he expected to sustain from eating before he would eventually collapse? His knees were shaking, his stomach grumbling, and his heart racing. He had to get out. Suddenly, the idea of Voldemort finding him, torturing him, and killing him seemed more pleasant than staying at Privet Drive for another minute.

Staying in this room with the large iron door that was locking him away from the world. Like he was some sort of criminal. He couldn't do it anymore. It was too much expectation. Even for the "Boy Who Lived". An idea quickly formed in Harry's mind and he'd be stupid not to take it.


End file.
